Mask of Flesh
by theatrestar424
Summary: Under mysterious circumstances, the Opera Populaire's ghost woke one morning to find himself in present-day New York. The poor person who is the first who interacts with this confused Phantom? The current stage manager and make-up artist for the newest Broadway run of The Phantom of the Opera, Carolyn. Erik in the present day? That can't be good...
1. Chapter 1: Rude Awakening

ERIK

* * *

Something was amiss. That much I could tell. I awoke to the sound of footsteps and talking which was getting closer and closer to me. Bolting upright, my hand instantly flew to my wig and mask that was located directly next to my bed, pulling them both on and securing them on my head. Readying myself for an attack of some sorts I glanced around, wondering from which direction they would be coming from. Then something hit me. My room was not how it should've been.

Not only were the walls completely off, _there were no walls._ Confusion leaked into my head in a steady stream as more and more realizations flooded in. Everything was wrong. I was not in my lair. The organ was in the same room and then varying other pieces of furniture littered the area, including a strange contraption that seemed in front a boat but had wheels under it and on the back, not to mention it was slanted as well.

In the midst of my confusion and subtle anger, I didn't realize the voices were just outside the door, and I could see a hand had turned the knob to the point where all they had to do was push it open and I'd exposed. Bolting underneath the bed, I could vaguely see shoes and feet walking in, and could hear the conversation that had been brought into the room.

" ... And this is the scenery and props department. It's basically where we keep all the props that are too big to be stored in the main props room. Things like Erik's bed... " _How did this woman know my name?! _" And the boat and candelabras. There's also things like larger curtains in the back. " The female voice stopped speaking, a male one taking her place. " I think these props should do very well for this next Broadway rerun. Everything's here, correct? "

" Yes sir, everything you should need is here, Mr. Lloyd Webber. We saved everything from the last run, " the female confirmed, the people stopping right in front of the bed I was hiding under.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation, more focused on my escape route. It was apparent these people were going to be of no help to me. They were obviously mad. Perhaps I'd stumbled into a mental asylum...

So lost in my thoughts I didn't realize they had begun to leave, the female trailing behind (I could tell it was her by her shoes). Immediately after the door had shut, she raced after them, and I took it as my chance to flee as well.

Following her out the door, I stuck to the shadows, not wishing to be spotted. Everyone was dressed so... So oddly. I really must've wandered into an asylum. Continuing to follow the sound of the same voices, we all wandered into another room.

" Costume department, as you can plainly see. Everything for the Phantom is in here as well besides the prosthetics and make up. Mask, hat, both wigs, cloak, everything, " the female told an older man, her arms cradling a clipboard. " This will do lovely, Miss Carolyn. I thank you for your time, but I must be getting to the casting call. It is my job to choose our Erik and Christine, as you know. "

My heart dropped when I heard Christine's name. Oh my Christine... My light in the dark hell I was living... Where was she? What did he mean by 'choosing'? A casting call was only needed for casting things such as roles in the operas-

Wait a minute. That couldn't possibly be... The clothes, the waking up in a strange place yet in a bed like my own... All the pieces fell into place and I almost went into a fit. This couldn't possibly be some other time period... Travel between times was nonexistent...

Yet obviously it was, and I'd somehow gotten myself somewhere far into the future where practically everyone around me knew of myself. Just great... Like I didn't have a hard enough time making patrons at the Opera Populaire think me a ghost. These people already knew of me! But how? How had they gained so much knowledge of my life and the time I had with Christine at the Opera House?

These were all questions I needed answers to and fast.

I heard two of the people exit past the shadows I was currently hiding in, leaving only the female, Carolyn her name was, to herself in the costume department, and then there was me, standing in the shadows, hiding from the unknown. She stood there, just staring at the clipboard before she looked up, slightly startled. Had she seen me? Did this room give her the spooks, perhaps? I knew not the answer, nor did I wish to know. Unless it was because of my presence, in which I would be very glad. Never knew how badly I scared people sometimes.

Standing in the shadows, I remained silent. If she was spooked easily, I didn't want to make myself known so suddenly unless I softly and subtly did so. For a moment I watched her, studying this girl and her movements and mannerisms. She seemed somewhat skittish, but not enough that prevented her from doing her job as stage manager well. Her hair was a bright and vibrant red and had an almost unmanageable curl to it. At the moment, the fire that was her hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, small ringlets falling from it and framing her freckled face. She was obviously of some sort of English mixed with Irish background, the English part evident by her slight English accent and the Irish present in her appearance.

As I began to drift more into my thoughts, I noticed she had stopped staring at her clipboard and was looking over at me. Her eyes were wide and she was frozen where she stood. Doing as best as I could not to move, I went frozen as well. After a few seconds, she took one step towards me, then another, then two more, and more until she was almost on top of me. Still i continued to be, and then she turned her head and called out.

" Mr. Lloyd Webber! I found the mask! Did you want to see it? " As her gaze turned back to me, she tilted her head. " So life-like... Almost as if you could just reach out and he'd bite your fingers off... " She wasn't willing to test this theory, but I wouldn't have bit her fingers. Maybe broken them, but not bit them. That's uncivilized.

When no response came, Carolyn turned back around and looked to see if there was anyone out the door. Webber had already left, probably at the stage by this point, and apparently didn't hear her. But she was certain he would want to see the mask to make sure it was up to his standards. Hesitantly, a hand reached out and brushed against my mask, and when I felt fingers gripping the edge my own hand shot up and held firmly and tightly to her wrist.

" Do not touch that! " I sneered, baring my teeth and forcefully pulling her into the shadows with me. I could see she was about to scream so my free hand pressed against her mouth, muffling any sound that she tried to make. The fear in her bright green eyes was present, and I could feel her ragged breath against my gloved hand. After a few moments when I knew she would be quiet, my hand fell from her mouth while my other still gripped her wrist.

Jerking her hand away, Carolyn rubbed at her wrist, feeling a bruise beginning to form. I hadn't realized how tight my grip had been until I saw the hand-shaped bruise all around her wrist. She looked up at me, eyes wide and her mouth half open to say something. Yet she remained quiet. My demeanor had changed from angered to infuriated as she just... Just stood there, watching me as if I was some creature she knew nothing about!

" Y-you... Are you a th-thief?! " Carolyn muttered out, still cradling her bruised wrist as she backed up a few steps. The clipboard she had been holding in her other hand has clattered to the ground when she dropped it to instead pull her wrist away. Her words stung me slightly, and I had to keep the urge to end her life right then and now at bay. I couldn't risk being discovered by another of these futuristic people...

I raised my visible brow, the only vague hint I had some sort of expression on my face. Always had I been good at masking my emotions with a blank stare and expressionless face, and now was no exception. " I am no thief, _mademoiselle_. I suggest you hold your tongue before you spray more false accusations. " My voice was low and quiet, a whisper as to not draw more attention to the both of us yet with enough force in it to show I meant business.

" Now, you shall take me wherever it is you live. Understood? And I mean immediately! " I took a step forward, getting into her personal space yet again and forcefully tilting her head upwards, making her eyes meet with mine. The bright green irises had become more vibrant, specs of gold glinting in the light. Never before had I met someone with such a vivid tint to their eyes. They looked as if they were emeralds held in place by a ring of gold-

_Stop that! You should not be wasting such poetic thoughts on this girl! Think of Christine... Think of her right now. She will be yours once you find a way to return to our normal time. _Yes, Christine... My beloved Christine... She may have shied away when she revealed my face, but I will _**make**_ her love me and marry me and stay with me forever...

Again, lost in thought, I was pulled back from the argument I was having with my mind by her answer. " A-and why should I? Wh-who are you?! What d-do you want with m-me? " Aw, she was scared. How cute, how precious she was. My finger and thumb was still gripping her chin in a firm hold, loosening only slightly as to show her I meant no harm to her at the moment.

" I, my _dear_, mean you no harm. I am an... An Angel, one could say. And to answer your other inquiries in a quick manner; I demand you to and I just need shelter for a while. " I chose my words carefully, using the whole 'Angel of fill-in-the-blank' technique and hoping she bought it. It wasn't as effective, I knew, due to not being knowledgeable of this girl's skill in any art, and the fact made me a little anxious to hear her reply.

Carolyn was silent for a few moments, her mind processing his words before a look of irritation came over her features. " You're no angel! You're just some crazed fan who snuck in here and tried on these costumes! Le-let go of me! _Security_! " she cried, trying to make a break for it out the door.

Oh this child made a wrong move. Hearing the word 'security', my hand immediately grabbed at her shoulder, grip tightening. " I advise you not do that again, child. Bring me to your home. _**Now**_. "


	2. Chapter 2: Deal With The Devil

**Chapter 2 is here! I'm going to try to be updating as much as possible since I write this all on Google Docs then copy/paste it here, so I can write wherever I get inspiration! Thanks so much to those who read the first chapter. Hope you like it!**

CAROLYN

* * *

It all fell into place for me. Now, usually I wasn't one to go down without a fight. But even when the actors put on all the costume pieces and got fully into their characters, I always tried to keep my distance until the show was over and the makeup had come off. Really, I'd never been a big fan of this show. Was I a fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber's work? Yes. The story itself? Not really. In reality, it gave me the spooks. Who would want to be in such a relationship? Not me, that's for sure. I had a happy life with a wonderful boyfriend and a good-paying job. No way would I wish Erik to be real.

Yet here he was, my wrist bruised because of him and my mind reeling and trying to process everything. I was trying to be strong and not take his shit, yet at the same time I was utterly terrified of what he'd do to me now that I'd discovered him. How the hell did he even get here?! He's not supposed to be real, dammit! Why? Why here? Why now?! Why with me?! What did I do to deserve his wrath and attention?

Oh he was no angel. I wasn't buying his bullshit. I'm smarter than that. May not have gone to Cambridge or something, but I am not some stupid girl in love and obsessed with a fictional phantom who kidnaps sopranos and forced them to marry him or their fiancé will hang. I was not into that kind of thing.

Starring Erik straight in the eyes, I tried to look the least bit intimidating. I even stood on my toes so my green eyes could be level with his pale blue ones. " Not unless you tell me your intentions and who you are! There's no such thing as an angel to me! " I countered, letting my hands fall to my side, not wishing to come off as weak. As I spoke I could hear a little Irish slipping into my English accent, which always happened when I was angry, irritated, or need answers.

And right now, it was all of the above. What gave him the right to boss me around like that? He had no right, that's what! He was not in his world of night and darkness anymore! Sure, New York City could be considered hell sometimes, but nothing compared to what he'd lived through. Which, and I really never paid attention to his whole life story when managing the shows, could either be better or worse than New York life. I'd have to ask him once we got back to my place-

No! No way was I bringing him home with me no matter how much he commanded! What would I tell my boyfriend when he returned in a few days? _Oh, I got lonely and I found him at the prop warehouse under Broadway so I decided to bring him home. Can we keep him_? I would have a lot of explaining to do to poor James… He'd think me mad! Or worse… Break up with me…

Coming back to the problem at hand, I stood my ground and listened to his answer. " My intentions are to find suitable living quarters and shelter until I can find a way back to my home. And I told you who I am, goddammit! There must be some sort of angel you wished you had. One of music, a guardian to keep you safe, one for vengeance upon another. All of which I am highly qualified to portray for you. "

Again, not buying this crap. But… I did have a list of people who had doubted that a female from Ireland could get a job as stage manager in an American theatre, let alone Broadway's leading manager, and they could do with a good vengeance, as Erik so eloquently put it… Wait, I will not stoop to this crazed man's level! I am a good-hearted being who volunteers in her spare time. Not planning the death and or disappearance of lifetime enemies who have probably long forgotten me. Forgive and forget right? Apparently I never forgave and I never forgot. Great. I am not in my right mind to make this decision.

Follow his commands and trust his intentions? Or do I risk my whole existence on saying no and denying him of his demands? Ugh this was a difficult decision… I bet whatever choice I make I won't like it, and I'd rather be alive and hating life than dead…

With a hesitant sigh, I slumped back down to my normal height, Erik towering over me more now that I wasn't on my toes, and gave him an answer. " I have a few conditions that you must agree with, but if you agree to them I will give you shelter and whatever else your heart desires. " I bent down, picking up my clipboard before turning on my heels and taking a few steps towards the door. I was waiting for him to follow; to hear the sound of his boots hitting the concrete floor; for him to be right on my heels and following me home.

But I didn't hear the footsteps, and I had to turn around again to see him still standing in the shadows. " What's wrong? " I asked, truly wondering why he was not right behind me at this point.

" We discuss the conditions here and now. I wish to know what I am getting into by following you, and whether or not I should go find another person without your conditions to let me house with them. " Ah, so that was it. My hand fell on the lock to the door, hearing the subtle click as it locked into position and I strolled back over to Erik. I pulled up two stools that had been sitting alone against the wall by the door, setting one down and the other just a few feet away from it. " Sit then. We shall discuss the conditions now, just as you want. "

To be honest, this was starting to annoy me. Letting him control what I did about my conditions and the way I usually did things was not me at all. I didn't even let the producers of the shows here boss me around too much. Erik here was commanding me more than the producers of _Rent_, _Newsies_, and _Phantom _did combined. Seriously, who would ever want to be in a relationship with this guy?

Erik sat down carefully, not fully wishing to be out of the safety of the darkness and into the bright fluorescent lighting of the large warehouse. Paper flipped on my clipboard as I prepared a clean sheet, wanting to have his signature on a makeshift 'contract' so I could hold it against him. " Now, no commanding me of things in my own home. And don't go scaring off my boyfriend. He isn't in town currently, but will be in a few days, and if you're still here then, I don't want him seeing you. "

With the start of my conditions, I felt like the word _boyfriend _had caught the majority of his attention. The brow that was visible furrowed, showing his utter confusion at the term yet his underlying dislike for it as well. I had to keep reminding myself his story was set in the mid to late 1800's, so the term was fairly new to him.

As if on cue, the question I was expecting came into the open. " What is a _boyfriend_? Seems like an odd term to use to describe someone. " My head lightly shook and a hand went to massage my temples. I could tell this would be a long road ahead.

Sighing, I removed my hand from my forehead and gripped my clipboard to my chest. " A boyfriend is a man who a woman, or another man, really likes a lot and loves to death, but they haven't officially been married or are engaged. Really it's more of the stage between friends and life partners. At least, that's how I think of it. " I waited for the reaction on his face at my explanation, wondering what I would have to endure now. His expressions showed he was thinking of a rebuttal, some way to ask more, but I stopped him by continuing my conditions to our agreement.

" Secondly, no stealing or murdering. Now, if you decide to get a job if you somehow cannot get back to the Opera House that involves either feel free to do those. But not in my house or to those I know and care about. " This time it was the word _care_ that got to him. I knew enough of the story to know he never had a good childhood. It was one that lacked care and love and kindness from everyone, including his mother. Yet I didn't realize how much of an emotional impact saying the word in reference to people it would have on him.

He scoffed at the mention, sitting as straight as a board. I bet when he wasn't composing that was how he always sat, even with a chair that had a back to it where you could lean back and relax against it. Did he ever relax? Did he know the word relax? He seemed so tense, like he could use a good massage in the shoulders to defuse his troubles...

But I wouldn't be the one to give it to him. If his Christine were here, I'm sure she'd be hypnotized into doing so for him. It made me a little sick to think of how he could put someone into a trance just with a few words and his voice. Sent a chill down my spine even.

Putting off the thought of such things, I went back to the contract I was making with Erik. I still couldn't believe I had somehow wrangled him into making a deal with me. It was his idea. Well, more like his _demand_ at first, and I wasn't going to think of it as a demand.

" Next, no just lounging about in my house while I'm not there. You either have to come with me here or get a job. I'm not letting you be a freeloader in my home. " I could probably get him a job here if he wanted, but I'd have to pull a little makeup magic so he wouldn't have to wear the mask all the time and draw unwanted attention.

His reaction was priceless, really. The expression was one of irritation and denial. " I am no freeloader, mademoiselle. If I can, I will do my best to find a suitable job. But... I cannot promise I will. I would think nothing here would be like my previous profession. "

_Well_... " You see, " I began, messing with my fingers and the 'clip' part of my clipboard. " My job is a lot like your job... And then there's other jobs like it. I could... Uh, find you one if you want, " I offered, continuing to fidget with my fingers.

Again, he seemed confused. No one had ever helped him before I guessed, and my offer was probably one he had never heard of before. He looked as if he was processing all possible outcomes of accepting my offer, contemplating on them. As if he could make a mistake either way.

A soft sigh escaped from his scarred lips, his shoulders slumping for a quick moment before he inhaled again. " What kind of job did you have in mind, mademoiselle?"


End file.
